MUD
by Absintheaddict
Summary: An aftermath of a case and conversations. Then an accident happens. Reid and Morgan are involved


Disclaimer: I own nothing or no one from "Criminal Minds" and no money is made from this, it is just for catharsis. Anything you recognize isn't mine so please don't sue me.  
Author's Note: First of all, well *waves uhmm hi. This just came to me today as I was watching at the ceiling of my room trying not to think about the fact that today 9th of November is the 8 month I've been without my dog. And there I go thinking about him again urghh. Anyway, not a native English speaker so if you find the writing a little wonky it's because of that. If anyone is willing to give it a try betaing it I will give you full credits ^^.

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They were at a local bar decompressing after a hard case, a serial rapist, pedophile on top of it. Thinking about Chicago, and Carl Buford was inevitable for Morgan in these cases, which was why after leaving the plane Spencer had suggested they go and drink something. They arrived at the bar and managed to secure a comfortable booth so that no one would overhear or intrude if they were having a private conversation. They ordered two beers (even though Reid had no intention of drinking whatsoever) and they sat in silence while Morgan practically inhaled his drink.

Reid watched the bar and noticed it was practically empty (one of its attractive, in Reid's opinion) and watched a blonde voluptuous woman -he couldn't help thinking of Garcia- as she danced sensuously to a middle aged bearded man who was looking enamored with her moves, then he looked back at Morgan and he was staring at him. "It's just" he started but then he seemed to he couldn't come up with the words. Reid continued being quiet and waited for Morgan to continue his train of thoughts.

"Look kid, I know what we do for a living, I know what we have seen and where we have been, but seeing that little boy, and realizing that we were witnessing his last minutes on earth it was... I just can't believe life would be so unfair to those children, who hadn't done anything to anyone. I just hate they couldn't help being raped over and over and then being sacrificed like cattle. It seems to me that that little boy was so mature dealing with his mortality and I can't even imagine being trapped in an elevator again..." Morgan went quiet at that time only to say barely above a whisper "I hate feeling helpless to do anything but wait for someone to close their eyes for one last time to watch people get damaged, get broken, or worse" he went back to drinking, grabbing Reid's beer his eyes looking far away.

Reid understood Morgan's words were related (Emily, his mind provided) to other topics better left untouched so he said: "Have you ever heard the word Armero?" He watched as Morgan thought about it and shook his head no.

"There is this village in a country called Colombia. It's funny because the first time I heard about that country I thought it was actually Columbia but that the teacher was misspronou..."

"Reid" Morgan interrupted him without malice but trying to get to the bottom of Reid's story so the genius smiled sheepishly

"Well, anyway, this village was located near a volcano which hadn't erupted for 69 years. It was 1985, the 13th of November to be precise and then, all of sudden it erupted. People who lived in this village and many others didn't have enough time to run away so there was an avalanche of mud and debris and many other materials which killed a lot people. When teams of rescuers and the media arrived at this place they arrived to more than 19000 casualties. And then they came up to a little girl, Omayra, she was called, barely 13 and she was trapped in so deep that there wasn't enough time to get her out. So the entire country watched helpless to do anything as this girl, faced with her own mortality, only said that she would have liked to get to go to school again and after hours of watching her, they were witnesses to her death, due to gaseous gangrene. Everyone remembers her and the strength she had until her death, and even though there's a large scar this catastrophe left, the people found strength in the memory of her and fought and lived on. The advantages of being young is that your mind isn't filled with all the information that we have do they deal with death easily whereas we, we wonder and fear all that will happen after we depart from this world. What can we do when faced with these meaningless deaths of the youth of our world? The same thing Colombian people did. We must find strength and remember them as we continue to help rid this world of those who do wrong. But then again, we must also mourn". It was Reid's turn to be quiet and he hailed the barman for more beers which had continued to pile up as he had told his story.

"Armero" said Morgan. Reid looked at him and grabbed a swig of his beer

"That was the name of the village wasn't it?" Morgan asked already confident of Reid's answer.

Reid nodded as he said "I have a pen pal from over there, I think their history of violence and disasters have given them a really thick skin, but they don't forget"

"Kind of like us" answered Morgan. They continued talking for hours and Morgan kept drinking, while after that one beer Reid only drank soda.

After a while as Morgan got up to use the men's room and when he got back he said -rather loudly- Spencer thought  
"Almost fell asleep on the stall" then with a less loud tone

"Pretty boy, I might be a little wasted, I think it's time both of us went to our homes. I'm going to grab a cab and you can do the same"

"I can take you" said Reid to which Morgan replied

"Really, there's no need to share a cab, I'm " *hic "sober enough to get to my home"

"I meant I could drive you home in your car and then I'll grab a car" Morgan gave Spencer a looked that prompted Reid to say

"Morgan, you do know that I know how to drive don't you?" he asked a little irked at the assumption that he didn't.

"Well, not until just know I remembered you could" said a laughing Morgan.

"Well, then: let's go. Careful with the SUV, its government issued" he said and even though he had had a lot to drink he managed to avoid the soft punch Reid aimed his way.

They got into the SUV and they went on their way talking about everything and nothing. Morgan talked about his dog and Reid listened. Then Reid talked about his pen pal.

"...And she wrote I should try being a Cuentero. I find it laughable that she can tell me that, given that she doesn't even know me in real life. Can you believe it? I asked her why she thought I would make a good storyteller and she said that a good reader or better yet an avid reader can always tell a good story. She said her girlfriend reads as much as I do and her stories were one of the reasons they fell in love. Everyone gets pissed when I'm telling facts, I don't imagine they would like to hear me making up stories" Reid laughed as he stared at the road.

But then Morgan replied in a serious tone

"You're a good story teller Reid, even if you get sidetracked. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I would like to see what you imagination comes up with"

They drove in companiable silence. Just as Reid was about to turn right around the block of Morgan's apartment Reid watched in slow motion as a truck ran over the red light and approached the SUV at a fast speed. And then a white light and nothing.


End file.
